Percy Bysshe Shelley

(1792-1822 / Horsham / England)

Music, When Soft Voices Die - Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

Form: Sonnet


Comments about Music, When Soft Voices Die by Percy Bysshe Shelley

  • Veteran Poet - 1,198 Points Oduro Bright Amoh (4/20/2015 6:47:00 PM)

    PBS writes like no other. This poem is testament to that fact. Brilliant. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • Veteran Poet - 1,428 Points Sagnik Chakraborty (9/10/2014 11:53:00 AM)

    I've loved this 8-line verse by Shelley ever since I first read it in my school days. What an ending! PBS lives on in our hearts. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 178 Points Brian Jani (6/19/2014 12:00:00 PM)

    Odours, when sweet violets sicken, thats poetry right there (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 30,000 Points Akhtar Jawad (5/22/2014 5:02:00 AM)

    I read this poem when I was a college student. Like love at first sight this poem made a place in my heart and and soul. Yes, I love this poem. I have no reasons for this love, but I shall continue loving this poem. It is my teen aged love. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Sonny Faolan (8/14/2009 12:08:00 PM)

    this is so sad and nostalgic! i love the way he closed it: 'love itself shall slumber on.'. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: rose, memory, music, love



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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